“Sure.” Rafe had no idea what was going on with his family. His parents happily filled his bank account. It was one of a few topics that Coop made sure never came up in conversation.
“Hey,” Coop said into the phone once Rafe left.
“I’ve been staring at this envelope for the past three days, Evan.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
He wasn’t going to lie to his dad. They both knew that. “I want to help, Dad.”
“It’s not your job to help.”
“Yes it is! If we lived on a farm, I would be working in the fields, up at dawn. Before dawn.”
“I know you’re saving up for Copenhagen. You deserve to go.”
“I don’t care about Copenhagen.” Coop wouldn’t tell him that he was relieved knowing that he wouldn’t be able to go. As he raised the money for Copenhagen, it started becoming more real, and thus scarier. “Dad, you don’t have to do this. Things are tough. You don’t have to sugarcoat it or make up promises. I want to help.”
“We’re looking into selling the house and downsizing into an apartment.”
Coop had lived his entire life in that house. Had the height marks on the wall and everything.
“I hate this, Evan. I fucking hate this.” His dad was not one for cursing, and the word and urgency of it lanced Coop’s heart.
“I’m going to send you another envelope.”
His dad took a very pregnant pause. “Thank you.”
His acceptance of the money hurt more than his prior objections.I fucking hate this, too.
* * *
Coop and Rafewalked along the river. Rafe kicked every pebble in his path like a penalty shot in a soccer match. This part of the river had no beach. It was abutted by giant rocks that kids had graffitied with their initials, fun messages, and apparently, lots of drawings of dicks.
“Remind me again why we’re stopping at the library.”
“I’m picking someone up.” A smile quirked on Coop’s lips. He had tried emailing Matty yesterday to hang out, but got no response. If Coop was going to distract him from his studies, now was the time. But at that moment, that was not the motivating factor that made Coop enter the library. He found himself in some odd kind of Matty withdrawal.
“It’s Saturday night,” Coop said to Matty a few minutes later in the stacks. “You’re coming out.”
“I can’t. I have to study.”
“Nobody has to study on a Saturday night. That’s why Sundays were invented.”
“I have a big test coming up soon. I just need this time to get caught up.”
Coop squatted down and rested his chin and hands on the table. “I think you are caught up.”
“I appreciate it. But I can’t.”
Coop delicately lifted his textbook’s cover with his index finger and shut it closed. It made a poof sound.
He gave Matty a proud, kindergarten photo smile.
“Come out for the night. It’ll be fun. We’re going to a party with ice luge shots.”
“I don’t drink.”
